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<title>who doesn't hate ceos? by lucienna</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26556061">who doesn't hate ceos?</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucienna/pseuds/lucienna'>lucienna</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Overwatch (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Friendship, Gen, Humor</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 08:55:53</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>788</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26556061</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucienna/pseuds/lucienna</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sponsorship parties are exhausting, luckily, Lúcio has Sombra to help out.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Lúcio Correia dos Santos &amp; Sombra | Olivia Colomar</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>who doesn't hate ceos?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>been going through my old ow writing and found another i haven't published i kind of liked:D</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>If there was one thing Lúcio really hates, it’s parties full of old rich dudes. And one thing that seems to be inevitable about becoming a celebrity, he’s discovering, is parties full of old rich dudes. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Lúcio fully intends to escape as soon as they all get drunk enough to not care (which will be soon, he notes with amusement, as one of them tries to dance with a waiter) and go DJ for the rave his friends are holding in celebration of the release of his first studio album. But the wait is certainly painful. Especially considering how none of them actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>care </span>
  </em>
  <span>about the causes he’s trying to raise money for, or the actual music, or even Lúcio himself - they only actually care about how much money it’s all going to make. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Luckily, the music is indeed making lots of money, which means that next time Lúcio can happily fund his own tour and invite his friends to the fancy sponsorship party instead of a bunch of CEOs. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>For now, though, he has to make small talk, and internally roll his eyes whenever he mentions the problems surrounding the poorer areas of Brazil and the CEO of some giant company who annually donates .01% of their profits to a charity run by his son looks vaguely uncomfortable and changes the topic. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>That is, until every holo screen starts projecting terrible recorder renditions of Lúcio’s songs, and all fancy levitating tables crash to the ground at the exact same time.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The CEOs are screaming, the waiters are freaking out, and Lúcio is flying down the hallway as fast as possible. There’s an open window about three feet up, and it’s easy enough to ride his way up the wall, out, and down the other side. He sighs, leaning against the wall. A near escape.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As if by magic, a woman dressed all in violet appears next to him, leaning against the wall in the exact same position. She grins at him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You looked bored.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Lúcio has to laugh. “Have I ever told you that you are a very good friend?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Her grin widens. “A few times. I’m something, aren’t I?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She was indeed something. Sombra might be the best hacker on the globe, and Lúcio considers himself </span>
  <em>
    <span>very </span>
  </em>
  <span>lucky that she also dislikes Vishkar - and the world order in general - quite a bit. She had contacted him one day, saying she quite liked his music and what he was doing to oppose the Brazilian corruption, and would be happy to help if she could hear more of said music - especially when the music began to come with </span>
  <em>
    <span>interesting </span>
  </em>
  <span>facts Lúcio had uncovered about various Brazilian politicians. So they had become a team. Sombra got the info for the rebellion, and Lúcio made it happen. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And of course, upon discovering Sombra’s serious lack of actual friends, Lúcio had taken on the difficult and thankless task of becoming hers. He’s pretty sure he’s succeeding - she had gone from asking for malicious secrets as payment, to just wanting free tracks of his music he’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>sure</span>
  </em>
  <span> she could get herself, to randomly doing things like this. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You are! So, what’s the payment gonna be this time?” he grins, knowing it won’t be anything serious. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Sombra laughs again, pretending to think, before pulling up a webpage for an underground music venue. “I hear there’s a rave going on in Rio tonight, DJ-ed by some famous guy? Who knows who </span>
  <em>
    <span>he </span>
  </em>
  <span>is. Might be fun though. I’d love an invitation.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Lúcio bows exaggeratedly, holding out his arm for her to take. “Well, I’ll be happy to escort you, Miss-”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She uses a different name every time he sees her. “Caitlyn.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lúcio looks at her.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Caitlyn? Really?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I look like a Caitlyn.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You do </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>look like a Caitlyn.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Someone’s a rude escort. I should have left you to the CEOs.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Lúcio pretends to faint, nearly actually falling over but catching himself with a sweet sideflip (Sombra rolls her eyes). “I’m not sure I could have lasted another minute, honestly. You know one of them tried to like, buy Hawaii? From the United States? I mean, you probably do, but it took every bit of acting talent I have to not start laughing at </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>one.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She nods. “Oh, I know. I should have a little conversation with him. He wouldn’t want </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>embarrassment to get out.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Lúcio has to giggle, taking her arm again as they start walking in the other direction, away from the glittering city. “If it accidentally appeared on every cable television network? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Truly </span>
  </em>
  <span>tragic.” He places a hand over his heart, playing a funeral march out of his speaker. “I’ll make sure to send him my condolences.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Sombra cackles. </span>
</p>
<p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>twitter is @krystira tumblr is @mercyofficial, pls leave comments or kudos if you liked it&lt;33</p></blockquote></div></div>
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